Posts tagged ‘mushroom’

Last night’s meal unexpectedly went down as “the best thing you’ve made in a long time” according to wifey. “I’ve got goosebumps!” she exclaimed at one point. I mean, while I expected it to be tasty, it went a little beyond that. OK, a lot beyond that. Best of all, it didn’t dirty many dishes or take a long time. (I know that’s a rare occurrence for a lot of my recipes. Sorry, dish-doing-haters). I only cooked for 2, but this should serve about 4. Remember that gnocchi is a gut-buster.

Preheat the oven to 375. Reserve 15-20 of the largest sage leaves for frying later. Chop the rest of the sage and the chives. Set aside. Finely chop the onions and garlic. Heat the oil in a medium skillet. Add the onions and garlic and cook for 5-6 minutes. Add the caraway, and cook until the onions are golden (another 3 minutes or so). Sprinkle the flour in a little at a time so that the fat/oil can absorb it. Let this cook another 10-15 minutes until it’s a toasty, golden color, stirring semi-frequently. Begin adding milk a little at a time, whisking vigorously until it dissolves. Once you have a thick roux, add the chopped sage and chives. Salt & pepper to taste. Reduce heat to low and let the flavors meld, stirring occasionally.

Meanwhile, remove the stems from the portobellas, and put them gills-up on a large baking sheet. Bake for 10-15min until their juices are just starting to run. Bring a pot of water to a boil, and cook the gnocchi. They’re done when the float. Drain them and set aside. Once the mushrooms are done pre-cooking, remove them. Spoon a little bit of sauce onto the mushroom, and spread it around on the gills. Pile as many gnocchi as you can possibly fit onto each mushroom. Smother in sauce and top with crumbled feta. Put in the oven and bake for another 15-20 minutes. While it’s baking, pour 1/4″ of oil into a small frying pan and heat. Take the large sage leaves that you reserved at the beginning into the hot oil bottom-side-up (the way the leaf curls when it fries, it just works better upside-down). Fry for 1-2 minutes until deep green. Remove from oil and let drain on a paper towel or clean dish rag. Sprinkle a little salt on the leaves while they’re still hot, so that it sticks to them.

Remove the mushrooms from the oven, and carefully move them to serving plates using a large spatula. (I used two spatulas. The cooked mushrooms will not longer be firm enough to support the weight of the gnocchi, and you don’t want the gnocchi to slide off the mushroom caps when you serve them.) Garnish with 4-5 fried sage leaves.

After getting some chanterelle mushrooms and Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child for my birthday, I decided to try out Julia’s mushroom soup recipe. I didn’t follow her recipe exactly, but the basic premise is there. We used chanterelle–which give off a feint aroma of apricots–shiitake, oyster, crimini (a.k.a. baby portobella, baby bella, brown) and white mushrooms for this. It turned out excellently for what it was. However, upon eating it wifey and I realized a fatal mistake we made.

A thick slice of crusty artisan bread with a slice of swiss cheese toasted under a broiler is absolutely essential to this recipe. DO NOT MAKE IT WITHOUT IT!!!

Melt the butter in a soup pot. When foaming, add the onions for 6-8 minutes until tender but not browning. Mix in the flour until it forms a paste. Slowly add broth to make a roux. (See directions below if you don’t know how to make a roux). Keep adding broth until it’s all added, then toss in the mushroom stems, bay leaf, pepper and parsley. Let the stems simmer for 20-30 min. If you have dried mushrooms, place them in a bowl, pour boiling water over them, and let soak for 20-30 minutes. Do not discard of the liquid! Meanwhile, finely chop the mushrooms tops. You can saute them before adding them to the soup if you want. I sauted everything but the oyster mushrooms. (I’m not a big fan of crimini unless they’re sauted. Too slippery. Yech!)

Once they’re done simmering, remove the mushroom stems, squeeze the juice out of them, and throw them away. Put all but 1/4 c of the mushroom tops in a food processor, add a little liquid from the soup, and mince–not puree. Add all of the mushrooms to the soup, and let them simmer for another 15 min. Reduce the heat to low. Take two egg yolks, and beat them in a bowl for a minute. Add the cream and beat for another couple minutes. Scoop a cup of soup, and beat it very slowly to the egg mixture. Don’t add it too fast, or you’ll curdle the yolk. Once the entire cup has been added, stir the egg mixture back into the soup. Cook for a 5 more minutes to thicken slightly, being careful not to let it come up to a simmer.

Serve with broiled artisan bread with swiss. Garnish with a little chopped parsley.

How to make a roux:

Add a couple tablespoons of broth, stirring vigorously. Once the broth is absorbed by flour/butter mixture, add a little more. Keep adding more liquid once the previous addition has been absorbed until you’ve added all of the liquid. You will be able to add liquid more quickly towards the end. Do this too quickly, the flour won’t absorb the liquid, and you’ll end up with clumps and lumps that are nearly impossible to dissolve. I don’t think it’s possible to add liquid too slowly, but you don’t to add 8 cups of broth 2 T at a time!

So… it was Saturday night, and Dave and I sat despairing in the kitchen. The pantry was full of the same stuff we always eat, and we were both tired of it. “Ugh,” he lamented. “I’m tired of the same meal every day!” I agreed.

Then the breakthrough happened. “Oh, I forgot I had this pesto,” he said. I suddenly remembered the baby portobellos I got at the grocery earlier that day. And we were off.

While I was sauteing the mushrooms and chopped onions in a bit of wine, Dave started toasting bread, then topping it with cheddar and sticking it under the broiler for a few minutes to melt the cheese. Once the bread was ready, we spread the pesto on the un-cheesed pieces, shoveled on the mushrooms, and topped them with mixed greens.

Two sandwiches each with a bunch of grapes between them on the plate… and we had a dinner fit for royalty.